


The Strip Show

by Pitastash



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Sex, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bottom Keith (Voltron), Casual Sex, Consent, Dirty Talk, Erotica, Flirting, Gay Keith (Voltron), Grinding, Homoeroticism, Horny Lance (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), Intense, Keith is a Tease (Voltron), Keith is so hot, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Pole Dance, Seduction, Sexual Tension, Smut, Stripper Keith (Voltron), Stripping, Top Lance (Voltron), You Have Been Warned, clothes come off, lap dance, like how it that even legal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:49:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23535574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pitastash/pseuds/Pitastash
Summary: Hunk encourages Lance to take risks and try something new. Poor Lance hasn't seen strippers in real life and really gets in his head about whether he should be there. That is, until a confident new performer steps onstage and changes his mind.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 111





	1. Chapter 1

Lights came up on the stage and painted the figures lilac and red.  
“Let me know how it goes,” Hunk grinned, slapped Lance on the back, and turned at the door to walk away down the street.  
“Wait--”  
But he had already vanished in an incoming sea of bodies, and the music faded in.  
Lance shook himself, tried to relax, and ordered a rum and coke.  
Sure, tonight was different from anything he’d done after work. As his roommate had suggested, it would just be a bit of fun. Nothing wrong with being entertained. Promoting body positivity. Stirring the economy.  
Stripping was a respectable profession after all.  
His eyes drew to the trio onstage. Two in silver, on either side of a third, in black.  
Then the base started, low-pitched vibrations that echoed through the floor. As the melody ascended, bodies began to sway under the lights all around Lance.  
The silver-clad two moved identically out to either edge of the stage, their torsos rolling in waves of reflective light. The third remained center-stage, though he placed a hand on the cold metal beam, which stretched from floor to ceiling.  
The performer swung around on it, a fluid muscled shape, back arched, head tilted up.  
Lance felt himself staring shyly, curious to see how the dance would evolve.  
Someone nearby said something in his ear, but the room was far too loud to make it out, so he just felt the person's breath.  
“WHAT?” He shouted.  
“YOU’RE ON MY DRESS!”  
And he was. “SORRY!”  
She shot him a look as a friend dragged her away.  
How awkward. Maybe he wasn’t fit for the nightclub atmosphere. Maybe he should just call it quits and go home where he wouldn't embarrass himself. He downed his drink and got another one.  
The men in silver shed their jackets, revealing sculpted arms. In sync they bent low and ripped off their pants. People screamed.  
The dark shadow had meanwhile ascended the pole, gripping it by the thighs, and now was hanging upside down. Dark strands of hair spilled out of a rubber band, but he barely seemed to notice, taking firm hold of the metal below with practiced arms.  
Somehow he let go with his legs, which floated carefully down to balance against the tightness of his chest and arms until he was parallel to the floor.  
Alright, Lance thought, so it's theater.  
The man in black let himself down, and the pants flashed off. The crowd screamed at the sight: velvety spanx and legs like white marble. He continued to sink until he was on his knees, leaning backwards. Then the shirt came off.  
How were real humans allowed to look like that, to move like that? He exerted so much control over every shining inch of his body, flexing rhythmically in the spotlight.  
It was around this point that Lance realized the other two had moved similarly, but both seemed like background furniture in comparison. Maybe it was just his tipsy brain’s capacity of only focusing on one thing at a time.  
The center performer moved sensually up and down, knees apart, jutting his hips to the sky.  
Damn.  
His abdominals rippled with each thrust. His expression meanwhile was smooth as silk; eyes closed, he looked to be in ecstasy.  
So this is what Hunk meant when he’d said ‘intriguing.’ The whole club suddenly seemed much warmer than before.  
Lance migrated closer to the front, subconsciously taking a shot off a passing waiter’s tray. He didn’t really want to think anymore.  
When the performer leaned forward again, he placed his hands down and rocked sinuously against the floor. There was just enough room to imagine another person beneath, receiving.  
How would it feel?  
God, Lance thought. His chest was so light and tingly.  
He thumbed a few bills out of a pocket and, face burning, moved to put them onstage.  
Immediately his eyes met the man’s, and the latter continued to grind the air. It was impossible to look away.  
He smiled directly at Lance, just for a second, like the performance was for him alone. Fuck.  
That was enough. Lance felt himself get hard. 

After the three exited to a joyous uproar, Lance made his way to the bathroom. It had a couple velvet stools facing the sinks, and he took one, ears pounding for several minutes.  
This was...something else. He needed to just breathe and relax a bit.  
“Excuse me,” a voice said from the door.  
It startled him, but what was worse…  
“I just wanted to say, thanks for coming out tonight,” the dark performer said. He wore a gray shirt and jeans now, thankfully. He must have noticed Lance observing, because he asked, “Did you enjoy the show?”  
Lance’s mouth was drier than the Mojave desert. He did his best to cross both hands inconspicuously over his lap.  
He nodded.  
There was that smile again. It looked like the shadow of a smile, not obvious itself. The man’s lashed eyes flicked to the floor.  
“This...might seem a bit weird,” he started. “But if you’re interested, I’ll be at Smith’s Brewery tomorrow too. They’ve got jazz and blues, so a bit of a different vibe.”  
“I-I play jazz piano,” Lance mumbled.  
“Really? I wish I’d learned.”  
“It’s my only real skill, though.”  
"Hmmm...I don’t believe that.”  
Lance didn’t know what to say. He tried to ignore the throbbing in his pants.  
“I’m Keith, by the way. Maybe I’ll see you around, …?”  
“Lance.” The next words kind of slipped out, probably because of the alcohol. “And for sure, I'll see you.”


	2. Smith's Brewery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was tempting to see where this would go, so hey, I'm back! Here's more ;)

The following night, Lance stepped out of Hunk’s car and onto the wet curb. As a light rain fell, he turned up the collar of his coat.

“Call if you need me, otherwise, make sure to get an uber!” Hunk called from the driver’s seat. 

Lance said something back, waved, and stepped into the light of Smith’s Brewery. Its walls were bare brick, and amber string lights draped overhead. Upon closer inspection of the ceiling, it was clear wooden beams had been left intentionally unfinished. 

Soft jazz played over speakers. 

It was a very different venue, that’s for sure.

“Welcome in,” a young hostess told him, handing over a menu and gesturing toward the stage, which sprawled at the back of the room, with sunken seating on all sides. 

There were several people already there, generally older than the lot in the strip club. Still more poured in after Lance. He scanned the faces for familiarity, moving swiftly from one pair of eyes to another. 

Where was Keith?

A couple offered him their cleared table and, a bit reluctantly, he sat down. The smooth satin of the booth pressed against his palms, still warm.

Heart pounding, Lance played with the corner of a paper napkin ring. He wasn’t altogether sure he knew what he was supposed to expect.

Just then, a light hand touched his shoulder and a voice murmured softly in his ear.

“I see you made it after all.”

Lance spun around. 

And there he was: smirking, broad-shouldered, raven hair framing his features with an effortless grace. And Keith’s eyes were dark purple moons. It was the kind of color you could only hope to find in nature. Just looking into them felt so... intimate.

“Lance, right?” Keith asked, brushing a stray hair behind the other’s ear. 

Lance nearly stopped breathing at the touch. His face seemed to melt despite the cool air drifting in from outside.

Keith tilted his head to one side, cueing a response. 

“Y-yes. Can I--” Lance looked hurriedly around. “Can I buy you a drink or something?”

Keith bit his lip. It glistened under the light. 

After a moment of hesitation, he seemed to come to a decision. His brow relaxed. “Just one. And I need to stop by a few other regulars first.”

“S-sure.” 

Watching the blue eyes finally shift away from his mouth, Keith bowed his head. “I’ll be right back to join you.” 

As he retreated, Lance noticed someone had come by and filled his cup with water while the two of them had talked. He sipped it thankfully, feeling his skin hot. 

As the music lulled, he flashed to the night before. The vision of the dancers on their poles, the thudding under his feet and in his gut; to Keith tossing his head, pelvis rolling like a wave; his thighs glinting. 

In comparison to that, this setting was polite. 

“Excuse me, have you been helped?” A rather beautiful woman in a suit asked him. The top button on her blouse was undone, exposing freckled collar bones. 

“I wanted to order...drinks?” 

“Of course! The staff will help with that. I just wanted to know if you were enjoying yourself, if you’d like some company…” She trailed off.

“It’s okay, Zoe, I’ve got this handled,” Keith said, appearing from the bar. 

“Very well,” she said. Something in her tone stirred a question in Lance, but before he could formulate the words, Keith was touching his hand.

“What exactly..”

“We’re here to pay attention to the clientele,” Keith answered preemptively. “It helps different places with ratings.”

Lance didn’t entirely know what he meant, he only knew that Keith smelled faintly of spiced chocolate. 

“Truthfully, I wanted you to come.” 

A small part of Lance’s brain wanted to accuse him of saying that to every customer (it’s a business, right?), but it got lost in the thick heavy feeling of the word come, and how it sounded in Keith’s mouth. 

To his credit, Lance pulled himself together long enough to intercept a passing waiter and order ciders before the tension in his gut returned.

“Tell me about yourself.”

“I’m just applying to jobs and living with a friend. What about you?”

“God,” Keith sighed, biting his lip again. “Well, I did go to school. Not for this…for art. I used to think I’d be an artist. Maybe I’ll go back and finish my degree eventually.” 

“That suits you somehow. I mean when I saw you dance…” Lance broke off, much too sober for this. Mercifully their drinks arrived moments later.

“You liked my dancing.” It wasn’t a question.

“You have a lot of passion, I guess is what I’m trying t-to say. Which fits with wanting to be an artist.” He was rambling and he knew it. Quickly, he took a swig and blinked as it fizzed down his throat. 

Keith’s mouth twitched with a smile. He sipped his cider. “I’d be happy to show you more,” he said. 

Lance coughed on his drink this time, eyes wide. 

Keith handed him a napkin. “Only if you want. Could be fun.”  


Again, he flashed to Keith onstage, all muscle and sheer erotic power.

He downed his drink. 

“Come with me, then,” Keith said, placing a hand on his back.


	3. The Show

They wove through bustling tables and into a hallway Lance hadn’t noticed before. Keith led the way into one of the two rooms, which had a single desk pushed against the wall, cluttered with paperwork, boxes and a landline. Beside it stood a hard-backed chair.

Keith took a hold of this chair and dragged it to the center of the room. 

“Have a seat.”

Lance complied, barely registering the door had been closed behind them. 

Keith moved to the desk, glanced down upon it, then back to Lance. “We’ll have to pretend we have music,” he said. “Ready?”

The word had barely left his mouth when Keith removed his jacket, exposing a silky black tank top and toned shoulders. He took a step toward Lance, and in that moment, all the awkwardness fell away. 

Keith held his eyes as he took another step. Then another, then knelt down before Lance. Each hand took hold of a knee, as Keith pushed his legs apart. 

Blood raced through Lance’s groin as Keith slid seamlessly between them, not quite touching, his spine arching, head tilted back. Then he moved in right up to Lance’s jaw, his breath teasing the hairs of his neck. 

The closeness and smell of him sent Lance reeling. In a daze, he watched a star dart across his vision. 

Lance felt his body brush his own. Felt Keith’s hand move along his thigh. 

“I can feel you already,” he breathed in Lance’s ear.

Then Keith moaned.  
A streak of pleasure raced down Lance’s spine, and suddenly his jeans were too tight. Fuck, he thought. This was…

Keith pulled his shirt over his head. Closer up, his chest looked like marble, carved with sensuously fine lines. His nipples were hard pink pearls. 

Maybe it was his own thudding erection, but Lance caught a glimpse that told him Keith was hard also, as he stood and slid into Lance’s lap.

Hands ran through his hair, tugging chunks in fists while Keith rocked against him. 

Lance let out a gasp then, grinding instinctively against his bulge. 

“God, I want to fuck you,” Keith panted.

The words spurred Lance on, and he gripped Keith’s hips as he moved faster. 

He felt Keith shift on top of him, angling his ass so that Lance slammed him there. Even through their clothes, Lance could feel how firm he was, how he bounced. 

Already the fire was building in Lance’s gut. He pushed Keith off, eyeing his hungry expression.

“Let me taste you,” Lance growled.

Keith hastened to pull off his leather pants, which was a bit of a challenge, as they hugged him tightly. Finally his dick sprung free, mostly obscured by black briefs. 

Lance pulled him out and Keith leaned back on his elbows, chest falling and rising with anticipation. 

He was bigger than Lance had expected. As Lance placed one hand around the base, Keith quivered. 

“Hmm, sensitive.”

With an experimental lick, Lance wet the length of the cock, then the tip, which he sucked. 

“A-ahh…”  
Embarrassed by the noise, Keith covered his mouth, which only prompted Lance to really go at it. 

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

He could feel Keith shuddering under his tongue as the moans grew higher in pitch. His body began thrusting into Lance before his mind could catch up. 

“I’m gonna--” Keith started, yelping as Lance took the whole of him in, hitting the back of his throat with every thrust. It made the most satisfying wet sound. 

Keith seized up then, spewing white ribbons of cum as his orgasm rocked through him. 

Lance disengaged, wiping his sopping wet chin. 

“Turn over,” he ordered.

Keith did as he was told, still shivering with pleasure.

Lance dug around in his pants pocket until he found the lubed condom. With a heavy breath, he unzipped his pants and rolled it on. 

“You want me that bad, huh?” Keith breathed. 

Lance moaned in response, staring at the pert little asshole before him. Keith gyrated his hips as if to tease him.

“C-can I?”

“Fill me up.”

Flicking a finger over his dick, Lance traced the ring of muscle, then pressed in.

“Fuck, Lance, put your cock in.”

“I need to stretch y--”

“Right now. Please.”

The need in Keith’s voice was enough to goade Lance forward, gripping Keith’s hips as he pushed. Keith tensed around him, and then relaxed.

Lance let out an involuntary noise as Keith pushed back into him.

“Move, goddammit…” Keith choked out, his head to the carpet.

“It doesn’t hurt?”

“No, it d-OHHHHH--”

Lance thrust forward hard, grazing a spot deep within Keith on the first try. It was something of a miracle, really. He repeated the action. 

“T-there--” Keith screamed. “Don’t you dare stop--!”

The friction was building as Lance pounded into him, connecting over and over and over…

The sounds were like sobs. Then Lance was coming too, and the whole world was ecstasy.


End file.
